Malik Gets A Camel
by Pachelbel
Summary: I think the title says it all. Humor fic I discarded as an idea for Chibizoo's contest.


A/N: This was one of the ideas I had (and then discarded) as my entry to Chibizoo's contest. I love camels...I think they're cute. But I have to admit, I do have a *fear* of them, which you'll probably notice.

  
  


Malik Gets A Camel

  
  


Malik steered his bike expertly through the narrow maze of alleyways, dust billowing out behind him.

Isis would be expecting his groceries, which he'd had to search all over town to find. Who needed green onions? Weren't leeks good enough? Malik didn't even *like* onions!

He was so lost in his own misery he didn't notice little Ahmed, a twelve year old trouble maker, waiting at the end of the intersection. As Malik slowed to check for traffic, Ahmed jammed a metal spike into the spokes of the prized motorcycle. Malik flipped over the front of his bike, landing clear of the traffic lanes fortunately.

The bike was not so lucky. A taxi barely missed it, but it had to swerve wildly. A pick-up truck, whose driver was startled by the unexpected maneuver, drove right over the back end of Malik's motorcycle.

When Malik looked up to check on it, he saw the tire was now bent in a 'U' shape.

"Malik! Are you all right?" His sister's familiar voice cried. A dazed expression was the only response to her question. "You crashed?"

"No!" Malik, his pride insulted, sat up. A little too quickly, actually, as Isis had to steady him. Angrily, Malik muttered, "Some little-"

"Nice flip, mister!" Ahmed taunted from across the street, before dashing into a nearby store for safety.

"HE did this!"

Isis rolled her eyes. "I told you, you need to be more observant. At least you weren't hurt. Did you get what I asked for?" She searched the contents of the sack and frowned. "Hm. This bread is a little stale. Oh, well, come on you can help me cook."

  
  


The contents of a small pan Malik had been "watching" crackled into flame.

"You did that on purpose." Isis sighed, as she doused the small fire her brother had started...not that it helped the smoke problem at all.

Malik didn't answer (which could be taken as a "yes") and tossed the blackened onions out the window.

"Are you still moping about your bike?" His sister asked. Malik dropped the cup he'd taken out of the cupboard, and it promptly shattered. Isis sighed again. "I thought so. Well, since your birthday is coming up-"

"My birthday is in December." (It was currently July.)

"Since Easter is next week-"

"-We're not Christian."

"Because you've been underfoot ever since the wreck, I got you Harley! Now you can do your chores again."

Malik's eyes widened. "A Harley Davidson! Isis! I love you!"

"Ach! No! Put me down!"

"Show it to me! I promise I'll never complain about running errands again! I'll do my chores twice a day! Now I'm really going to-"

"Here he is."

While Malik had chattered and made promises, Isis had lead him outside to their so-called front yard, where stood (in the red-gold sand, as the grass had long since died off) a cactus, a wheel off of an old car, and a camel.

Malik's expression of delight faded. In a still-hopeful voice, he asked, "Where is it?"

"He is right there!"

"Where?" The younger Ishtar demanded, refusing to believe what she was pointing at. "Behind the camel?"

"Harley *is* the camel!" Isis said, exasperated. "Oh, and here." She dropped a basket of clothes into her dumbfounded sibling's arms. "Take these and wash them."

"I'm not riding a camel into town!" Malik protested. Isis hummed louder and continued to ignore him. "Isis!"

"Lalala!" The door slammed shut behind her.

Malik turned away, glaring at the camel as he considered his options. The clothes *did* need washing. It was twelve miles to the nearest city, but if he rode the stupid animal he'd be laughed to scorn by the local biker gang.

Harley, who had been chewing non-stop (on what, Malik didn't want to know) suddenly paused and stood as motionless as the dying cactus.

A strange gurgling sound in the back of the camel's throat finally caught Malik's attention. "Ra! I don't even get a *healthy* fleabag!"

The camel lowered its head and spat on Malik's foot. The gurgling noise stopped, and Harley resumed chewing.

Malik punched Harley's soft, furry face; Harley bit his shoulder.

Hearing a ruckus, Isis stuck her head out a window. "Get going! It will be dark soon!"

Malik's hands were wrapped tight around Harley's throat, while the camel's teeth had a firm grip on Malik's blond hair. As soon as Isis appeared, the two-humped creature let go of his mouthful of hair and licked Malik's cheek, leaving behind little pieces of hay and a thick string of saliva.

Malik cried out in disgust and staggered away from it.

"Oh," Isis said, ignoring the ridiculous display. "Don't forget; sometimes Harley breaks down--"

"What?!"

"-Why do you always interrupt? If he breaks down, just give him the Heimlech Maneuver." With that she shut the window.

"I *hope* you break down. Maybe then I can let some jackals eat you," Malik hissed.

  
  
  
  


A/N: And...That's where I left off. *blink blink* Yeah...see, this is why I didn't use this plot for the competition. But any chance I could get a review off of you anyway? You know...even if it does include, "Pachelbel you lazy arsed author! You only got two pages done?!"


End file.
